Then I took a nap to rest,

As I wished to be at my best,

In such a dangerous place.

And so I woke up to an ugly face,

Scarred, dirty and causing disgrace

To any parents he might have had.

Now I was a touch mad,

For I had to deal with a problem bad,

Concerning the sword reaching for my throat.

Readers, you may note,

He was firmly headed for Charon's boat,

Yet the manner remained my prerogative.

I drew my knife, for I wished to live,

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

And dodged aside, preparing to give him the eternal sedative,

Yet he was a tad faster than hoped for.

On me quick despite an ankle sore,

Barely missed due to my leaps galore,

I was being tested.

Yet by a random bandit I would not be bested,

Especially when well rested,

I patiently awaited my chance.

As I led him on a last dance,

He cried, "By my name Hans,

Son of Hans, you shall fall this day!"

But that was not all he had to say,

He shouted, "I call on the blessing of the Sun's ray,"

And lunged at me suddenly.

Futile, of course, for I reacted quickly,

Ducked down and shoved up my dagger slyly,

So momentum tore him from chest to groin.

As blood spouted from his loins,

Fell from his shirt a sack of coins,

Heavy in weight, yet light in value.

"Ah, that should pay Hans' due,

Yet not being responsible for it I rue,"

I turned to see a man leaning on a tree.

Specifically, the one where Hans woke me,

For he thought I couldn't hear or see,

A foolish assumption.